City On A Hill (Genghis Tron)

We take pride in our short sights, Our past horrors Shout coarsely with a long stick Lest we seem sane We're strangers Pulling stolen reigns I'm not proud We're staging an ugly fable Our hands are awash with lies Most blame will fall On this useless mob Their bloodlust grows Our whips blow back It grows They'll snap our necks All we are--all we'll be Is so wrong